An Encrypted Desire To Be Forgotten
by Meimyselfandi
Summary: Every day he walks across the bridge, a note in his hand, his phone in his other. He goes into the center of it, his feet clacking against the stone, and looks over into the water. He sees the abyss stare back at him. Just one push, one more step and he would be gone. Forever.


A/N: TW for Implied/Referenced Suicide

This was a really importu thing and its barely edited soooo have fun.

* * *

Every day he walks across the bridge, a note in his hand, his phone in his other. He goes into the center of it, his feet clacking against the stone, and looks over into the water. He sees the abyss stare back at him. The dark blue water that stretches across miles, with little tiny white lights reflecting off it. He gets as close as possible, his stomach pressing up against the edge of the stone as he stares at the cold, dark water. Just one push, one more step and he would be gone.

Forever.

Completely eradicated.

 _Forgotten_.

And, Alexander rather likes that feeling. The thought of being no more, the thought of ending it all here.

The thought of dying.

In a morbid way, it comforts him. Maybe it's just the ability, the fact that he can control his death, that he enjoys. He can jump right now, or he could jump tomorrow or he could never jump and let fate take its course, either way, it was _his_ choice.

He feels himself start to sway, the dark water almost calling him, and he _wants it_ like nothing else for today to be the day, that he jumps. Hell, he wanted yesterday to be the day, but, he doesn't move, from where he's pressed against the stone, not an inch. Not until twelve.

He just waits and watches the reflected light flickering in the water below him.

Hamilton looks around and is glad that there's no one here because if he did decide to lunge himself forward he would hate for some to have to witness that, even worse to have someone, save him.

He looks at his phone, 11:59, almost time.

Alexander phone vibrates with an alarm and he knows, he begins to climb over the edge of the stone, then his phone vibrates again and his skin scrapes against the stone as he climbs down. He clenches his fists, and jaw is tightened, he reaches for his phone and it's still twelve, _damn it._

Like always it's on the dot, twelve in the morning. Jefferson texts him some stupid shit about work, or he asks him if he went to sleep, but it was mostly, 'Did you faint yet, asshole?' And, Alexander doesn't know why Jefferson's texting schedule lined up with his-nightly bridge visits, but if they didn't, well, he probably would have been gone a long time ago. Hamilton pushes himself away from the cold stone, and takes the letter in his hands, crumples it into a ball and chucks it as far as possible, letting it submerge in the cold water, where he'll eventually reside as well. He knows Jefferson texts will only comfort him to a certain point, they'll eventually be a time where he can't take it any longer.

But for now, it was enough.

Alexander taps on his phone and texts Jefferson back.

'Shut the fuck up, I'm going to bed now.'

He shuts off his phone and walks away from the bridge.

* * *

Nobody knows about his nightly tendencies and nobody needs to know about them. He thinks his friends might suspect him sometimes when he goes out that late, but nobody really stops him. He just tells them, he goes out to clear his thoughts.

Which isn't all a lie. His mind was a mess. There was so much going on half the time that he just couldn't take it, he couldn't write everything down, not even type it all down there was just too much and sometimes, he'd _break_. Half of the time he'd be typing, typing and writing and working, to his full potential, as much as he could. He didn't need sleep, didn't need to eat or drink, nothing but his work. Nothing mattered but his work, reality would often become fuzzy, he'd hearing things like pouring rain when there was none, voices in his head.

Then the other half of the time where he found himself at the bridge more than often, found himself looking down, found himself wanting it, more. He didn't want to write anymore, he didn't want to work, or eat, or drink, he just wanted to sleep, but sleep forever. Nothing mattered, during those times, not himself, or his friends, or his family. He felt numb, apathetic, the fake rain and crackling voices were still there, but far more pronounced much clearer.

It was one of those months when he felt nothing, felt _like_ nothing, like he was already dead and his body still kept moving. He found himself at the bridge like always, but this time he slid down and pressed his back against the stone, clutched his letter in his hand and his phone in the other. He curled into a tight ball and didn't move, just listened to crashing, non-existent rain his ears, and garbled up voice, that kept telling him to do it.

To jump.

End it.

End it.

Everything would be okay.

Still, Alexander finds himself unable to move and waits.

Like clockwork, the text comes, 'Lee was a real asshole today, like fuck, that guy-" Alex can't bring himself to read the rest because his eyes are wet with real water and somewhere along the line he realizes he's crying. He screams out to no one in particular, tears running down his face and he hates this feeling of nothing, and he wants to end it, but there a little flicker in his heart and he doesn't want to let go of it.

He feels something in his chest and because of goddamn fucking Jefferson. He screams, pulling at his hair and their snot on his face mixing in with the tears from his eyes, and he hates whoever made his savior, Thomas fucking Jefferson.

He doesn't want to be _saved._

 _He's not worthy of it._

* * *

He only realizes it when they're drinking shitty coffee from a shop late at night, talking about aimless, stupid things. And, he's starting at Thomas in the dingy light of their building, and there are bugs in the air-that should be dead because it's winter. But, it's only then that he realizes he in love with Jefferson and he finds that he doesn't mind it as much as he thought it would.

He does, of course, still freak out to his friends and they all give him terrible advice, like 'talk to him', or 'ask him out'. As if he was crazy enough to think Jefferson would like him back.

But he can still hope.

* * *

He finds the day he picks is rather fitting.

It's raining heavily, there are thunder and lightning somewhere far off-he can't hear it very particularly well. The wind is howling, it's the loudest cry.

And, it's perfect.

The fake rain that hears, mixes in with the real one so he can no longer differentiate, the voice in his head if far louder than usual, rivaling the shrilling wind. This time he knows this is it, this is the end.

He can no longer take it.

He's done trying.

He put his note in a plastic sheet and left it beside him on the floor. He walked up to the edge, the stone hitting his chest stopping him, and even though he knows today is the day he waits.

He waits for twelve.

Alexander gulps, the wind pushing on him almost eager for his descend down and he laughs, because he is too.

11:30.

11:45.

11:55.

12:00.

The time passes with relative ease and he stares at his phone the alarm going off, it's time.

But, he can't move.

12:05.

And there still no text, he feels himself almost wither away further if that was even possible.

He stares at his phone in disbelief, 12:10, his heart thumping against his chest. And, Alexander frowns he's waited long enough.

He takes out his phone and looks at the dark screen, before deciding, he has nothing to lose, and he opens their messages and types in,

'I love you'

'Goodbye'

He puts his phone beside his notes and climbs on top the stone ledge, the wind pushing him forward. Hamilton takes a deep breath, the water splattering on his face his the thunder in the background, a lightning strike illuminated the bridge reflecting in the water below him.

It was just like the hurricane that should have taken him a long time ago.

He lets the wind push him forward.

Until he's being jerked backward.

Hamilton slammed into a warm chest that he quickly pushed away from. He turned around and there was, his curls wet and saggy, his clothes drenched **,** was Thomas.

"What, why-?" Hamilton stares at him in shock.

Jefferson sighs as pushes himself off the stone floor grabbing Alexander hand tugging it forward and likewise the rest of him. Thomas wrapped his arms around him and Alexander followed through with the gesture.

"How did you find me?"

Thomas shook his head down, "I'll tell you another time, I swear, for now, can I take you home?"

Hamilton nods and walks over back to the edge, and he can see Thomas flinch in his peripheral, taking a step towards him. Alexander just bends down to pick up his phone and his letter. He slips it out of the plastic and crumbles it into a ball throwing into the storm of crashing winds.

And that's when he sees the notification on his phone, from Thomas, he opens it.

12:13

'Alexander wait for me'

12:14

'Please, don't go'

12:15

'I love you too'

He thinks he started crying somewhere in between reading them, or it could be the rainfall had gotten harder.

Thomas wraps an arm around him, and they walk away, the bridge receding behind them.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? Please Review!

I was going to end it sad and then was I like nahh the last one ended sad.


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